


Dance With The Devil

by kileythedestroyer



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: And for the purposes of this Alastor is demisexual, Asexuality is a large spectrum!, Don’t let Al find this, F/M, Inspired by Dapper Dresser and Sinful Delights, Loss of Virginity, Lucifer is a troll and the best wingman change my mind, Possessive!Alastor, Reader is a virgin, Save my Soul - Freeform, Shameless Smut, Viv I’m sorry, Yandere!Alastor, aaaand the author is going to Hell, some kinky strawberry pimp SHIT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22389340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kileythedestroyer/pseuds/kileythedestroyer
Summary: If I cannot FIND the possessive Alastor smut//angrily opens documentI will MAKE the possessive Alastor smut(Or, in which the King of Hell intentionally makes Alastor jealous in order to get dear reader laid.)
Relationships: Alastor/reader, slight Lucifer/reader
Comments: 76
Kudos: 837





	1. Chapter 1

Festivities in Hell were rare. Charlie paid no heed to such a fact, deciding that the grand opening of her hotel would pair nicely with a lavish party held in the grand hall of the hotel itself. You were never the kind to attend parties when you were alive, so needless to say, you weren’t exactly thrilled at the prospect.

You spent the hours before the party in your room, frantically trying to decide on an outfit suitable for such an occasion. Your efforts remained fruitless until Angel decided to come to your rescue.

He hadn’t realized how truly hopeless you were until he laid eyes on the potential outfits you had set out to decide on. They were all tasteful blouses paired with slacks.

“You really are a lost cause, toots,” Angel said with distaste, throwing the garments unceremoniously onto the floor. Making his way to your closet, he shuffled through the clothing.

With an exasperated sigh, he yanked a flowy dress out of your closet, examining it with a particular scrutiny that was characteristic of the spider demon.

“Ya ain’t givin’ me much to work with here, but this’ll do.”

The dress he’d settled on was black and came down to just above your knees, the neck forming a harsh v-line that bared way more cleavage than you would ever be comfortable with. You knew you had no time left to argue with him on the matter; the festivities would be starting in the next fifteen minutes. Angel managed to do a full face of makeup on you before spinning you around to face your vanity mirror.

Despite the attire not being your usual go-to choice, you couldn’t deny the fact that you looked stunning. Turning this way and that, a smile graced your lips as you admired the way the whole getup complimented your features.

“I’m damn good, I know, but we don’t have time for you to stand here gawking at yourself. You can pay me later,” he said with a wink, taking you by the arm and dragging you downstairs with him.

Demons had shown up in hordes on word that there would be free food and alcohol. Of course, sweet little Charlie was naïve to that fact as she greeted them with her trademark jovial, happy-go-lucky nature.

Lucifer himself had even decided to crash the party, after all, he wasn’t just the king of hell – why, he was the lifeblood of any celebration in his empire of inferno.

The moment he arrived, Charlie’s demeanor changed drastically, anxiously showing her dad around the hotel and introducing him to the newest members of the team. You were smart enough to duck out of the limelight for the most part; having never met the devil before, it was an understatement to say you were nervous.

You made your way over to the bar, hoping a glass of champagne would ease your nerves. Husk seemed particularly surprised when you shuffled up to him, the bottle of liquor that was raised to his lips being set on the counter and nearly dropped in his shock. You were never one to partake in the consumption of alcohol. You never saw the appeal of being absolutely shit-faced and embarrassing yourself in a way that you wouldn’t remember in the morning.

“You’re the last person I expected to fuckin see, kid,” he stated. “Scotch or vodka?”

“Champagne, please.” Your nails drummed on the counter nervously, unwilling to look over your shoulder in worry that you’d attract the attention of the devil. Husk grumbled something about your weak choice of liquor as he poured you a glass, and you thanked him before downing it all in one swig.

“And who might this be?”

Your stomach hit the floor at the proximity of the accented voice, nearly causing you to drop the wine glass in your hand. Setting it down on the counter, you warily peeked over your shoulder, coming face to face with Charlie and none other than Lucifer himself. She flashed you an apologetic smile. Your body went rigid.

You opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t bring yourself to form words in the presence of the very ruler of hell himself. You managed to croak out your name, to which the devil’s eyes lit up with delight.

“Dearie me, so you’re the one Alastor has been on about!” He let out a giggle. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s gone soft on us.”

Speak of the devil, your eyes scanned the hall desperately in search of the demon in question. You were hopelessly uncomfortable in the presence of a being such as Lucifer, and part of you silently wished Alastor would come to your rescue in leaps and bounds like he always had whenever you found yourself in sticky situations like these.

Knowing him, Alastor was likely in the kitchen whipping up some of his most delectable culinary creations for the sake of the guests at the party. You silently cursed him up and down for deciding to be the Gordon Ramsay of _Hell’s Kitchen_ at the absolute worst of times.

Lucifer caught on to your innermost thoughts, a devilish grin stretching his lips. _Of course_ you would be so petrified of him, he had capabilities that far surpassed what your imagination could procure.

The live orchestra at the corner of the hall began to play a classical, polka-esque waltz, and you watched as Lucifer’s slit eyes lit up with delight.

“Care to dance?” His question was teasing, bowing to you in a most gentlemanly manner as he outstretched a hand for you. You did not fail to miss the hint of mischief in his eyes, as if he was silently daring you to refuse.

“I’m flattered, really,” you blurted out, “but I’m really no good at dancing.”

“ _Oh?_ ” He was mocking you now. “That’s just _too bad_.”

Grabbing both of your hands, he swept you onto the dance floor with grace, flashing you a dazzling razor smile as he assisted you into what you assumed to be the classic waltz position; his hand snaked behind your back to rest just below your shoulder blades, placing your hand on top of his bicep before linking your remaining free hand with his.

Your stomach did flips inside you as he led you into a simple box-step choreography, and you awkwardly followed along with his movements, though lacking the finesse and ease he possessed.

It was at this moment that Alastor had come out of the kitchen, ready to join the festivities now that he’d finished with the food. He surveyed the room with a particular amusement, content with the way the celebration was panning out much to his tastes. That is, until he zeroed in on _you_.

His smile twitched with irritation at the sight of you in the arms of Lucifer, blissfully unaware and looking rather uncomfortable as you tried to shuffle along to his lead. Suppressing his desire to rip the king of hell to shreds just for simply touching you, he busied his hands by attending to Angel Dust, who was already nearly drunk out of his mind.

You kept your gaze anywhere but on Lucifer, afraid that the slightest look may offend him and cause him to smite you out of existence.

“So, has he consummated the relationship?” The devil asked, wrenching you from your inner turmoil, raising a brow with a lascivious smirk.

You blushed a deep scarlet, stumbling over your own feet as you attempted to choke out an answer. He let out that jeering, posh laugh of his, twirling you around and placing his hand at the small of your back as he dipped you.

“Don’t you worry that pretty head, little girl! If your purity bothers you so, I’d be pleased to _take it off your hands_ ,” Lucifer winked with a sly grin, loud enough for the Radio Demon to overhear him.

The sound of a record scratching could be heard in the silence that followed his offer, and Alastor visibly stiffened.

He spun around on his heels, his head turning so fast it was accompanied by an audible _crack_. Humming to himself, he began to make his way through the crowd of demons, which parted for him like a hot knife through butter. Static was heavy in the air; you could feel it coming before you even saw him, and a look over your shoulder only confirmed your worries. _Shit_.

“I- I really have to go,” you stuttered, your heart in your throat at the feeling of impending doom. You tried to step out of the waltz Lucifer had swept you up in, but he held you tighter against him at the slightest sign of your resistance.

“So soon?” He said teasingly, leaning his face closer to yours. The devil knew exactly what he was doing, exactly _whose_ buttons he was pushing. He was playing his cards right, and by the end of the night, he knew he’d get his dear friend the action he’s been needing for decades.

“Your highness!” There was a lilt to Alastor’s voice as he addressed the king of hell, but you could hear the malice laced between each word. “I see you’ve met this charming gal, it’s a shame she’s had too much to drink! I’ll take her to get some rest.”

The devil paid no mind to Alastor as he swept you out of his arms, instead tipping his hat to you and mouthing what looked suspiciously like _you’re_ _welcome_.

He linked arms with you and escorted you like you were truly a pitiful drunkard that was ruining the festivities. Truth be told, you’d only had a glass of champagne earlier, but you knew it wasn’t in your best interest to argue with someone like Alastor. No, not unless you had a death wish.

He led you past the rabble, much to your surprise passing right by your room, continuing on until you reached a door that was all too familiar. Dread was heavy in the pit of your stomach as he held the door open for you, his gentlemanly inclinations not being forgotten despite the obvious tension in the ambience that always seemed to follow him.

Once you were safely in his room and away from the prying eyes of others, Alastor swiftly pinned you against the door with his body. It was at this point where you realized you were in _very_ real danger. His smile was strained as he leered down at you.

“Now then, what brought about that topic of conversation?” His tone was as airy and chipper as ever, yet clipped, _short_.

“I… don’t want to say,” you mumbled, averting your eyes in embarrassment.

“ _My sweet girl_ ,” you heard the dark feedback in his voice, could feel the radio static in the air making the hairs on your arms stand on end. “You _will_ tell me.” The soft smile on his lips contradicted his thinly-veiled threat. His palms that had been flat against the wall on either side of your head lowered, one of his claws trailing just beneath your chin to force your gaze to meet his.

“He just brought it up… I didn’t comment on it, I know you well enough by now that sins of the flesh don’t really interest you.” Your voice came out small and timid, averting your gaze from his eyes and how they seemed to glow with an intensity you didn’t want to put a name to.

“Bold of you to assume I would _ever_ deprive you of such intimacy,” the Radio Demon chuckled darkly, his clawed hands mapping up the curve of your hips and the dip of your waist. You trembled beneath his touch, a shaky breath pouring from your lips.

Just the simplest of touches from him was enough to send your mind reeling into a frenzy of need. If this was all you would get from him, you would be happy; but from the hunger in his eyes, a look you never thought you’d see from him, you knew that this was _far_ from over.

He swept you into his arms with the infuriating grace that only Alastor possessed, carrying you over to his bed. His monocle was disregarded at this point, hanging loosely down the broad span of his shoulders. Your eyes fluttered closed as he laid you down on the plush surface, his seven foot frame easily towering over your petite body.

His smile was ever present yet _softer_ now, _haunting_ even. His gaze was lidded as he leaned over you, a singular claw slipping under the the v-neckline of your dress before tearing it in half right down the middle, revealing your body to him.

Supporting his weight with both arms on either side of you, he leaned in closer, a shuddering sigh falling from his lips as he took in the sight of your body so _exposed_ beneath him.

“Just because I do not outwardly display my affections does not mean I don’t find myself drooling over the thought of ravishing you,” he breathed down your neck, his lips ghosting up your throat and coming to a stop at your ear. “In fact, there’s been a few times where I’ve had to relieve myself to the thought of stripping you of your innocence, so to speak.”

Heat spread across your body at his confession. The red hue on his face as he spoke gave away the truth of his words. You knew it wasn’t safe to begin to think he had a weak spot for you, or _anyone_ for that matter. But from the way he was acting, it was hard to keep yourself from entertaining such absurd thoughts.

“He may be the devil,” Alastor began with a sadistic grin, removing his coat, “but _I_ am about to show you something _much worse_.”


	2. Chapter 2

His words hung in the air like the saccharine poison they were. You scrambled backwards on the bed, scooting further and further away until your back hit the headboard – there was nowhere for you to run.

He let out a dark chuckle at your outward display of fear, loosening the tie around his neck and climbing back onto the bed once he’d tossed it aside, stalking toward your rigid frame.

“Alastor, wait—”

“I’m afraid it’s _far_ too late for that, my dear.”

“Let’s just take it easy for a moment,” you tried to reason with him, your words not as confident as you would’ve liked. “He’s _the devil_ , he likes to cause trouble. He wouldn’t actually do it.”

“Rest assured, darling,” he cackled, “Lucifer wouldn’t even _dream_ of doing the things I’m going to do to you.”

He was closing in on you now. Your heart stuttered inside your ribcage. He had you cornered, and you knew there was no way you were getting out of this. Though you wouldn’t admit it, you were positive you didn’t _want_ to.

Alastor was _more_ than aware of the effect he had on you. He knew you _wanted_ him, that you have for more than a while now; unbeknownst to you, he’d even heard the quiet gasps of his name that resounded from your bedroom door in the dead of night, how you cried out for him when you thought no one was awake to be listening. Now that he recalled it, a peculiar heat blossomed in his abdomen, a particular longing for you that couldn’t hope to be satisfied by mere kisses. No, not this time.

Even still, when his face was mere inches from your own, he leaned in to claim your lips in a rough kiss, his hands moving to his dress shirt. He lacked the patience to unbutton it like a normal person, instead deciding to yank at the collar, buttons flying as they were ripped from their stitching.

The roughness which he handled his own attire astounded you; the dapper man was always concerned about how he presented himself, and took pride in his expensive suits. That in itself spoke volumes of how serious he was.

When he leaned back to assess your state of dress, you failed to notice the glint of mischief in his eyes, wholly distracted by the broad expanse of pale grey skin that he’d revealed to you as he began to remove the tattered piece of clothing from his body.

“Let’s see what we can do about those pesky little undergarments,” he murmured, discarding the abused shirt into some forgotten corner of his room.

With a snap of his fingers, what little that covered your upper and lower extremities had vanished into thin fucking air, leaving you utterly and completely vulnerable to his hungry gaze.

“Now _that_ is the sight of the century,” he hummed in satisfaction, his claws delicately grazing the curve of your breast, his eyes flickering up to your face to analyze your reaction.

You had no time to be embarrassed of being utterly naked beneath him, your breath catching in your throat at just the slightest touch from him. A devilish grin split up his face, the cocky bastard; you knew he was going to play you like a violin before the night was through.

Leaning back in, his head dipped to your chest, his lips closing around a your nipple, his tongue teasing the hardened bud. A low growl rumbled deep in his throat at the sound of your breath hitching. By god, you tasted _divine_ – it piqued a childlike curiosity within him, plagued him with impure thoughts of how you tasted _elsewhere_.

_He’d just have to find out for himself._

His tongue slid down the valley of your cleavage, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach and venturing dangerously close to your center. If your nerves didn’t already have the best of you, what remained of your confidence was two shits to the wind once he moved to spread your legs apart.

Catching on quickly to his intentions, you sat up abruptly, only for him to slip his hands under your rear and jerk you back towards him. You squeaked in surprise, once again trying to reason with him.

“You _really_ don’t have to do that,” you laughed humorlessly, _nervously_ , your legs instinctively trying to close.

“I don’t think you have a choice in the matter, sweetheart.” Alastor flashed you a lopsided grin, his claws digging into your thighs to accentuate his threat. In an effort of consolation, he offered you a chaste kiss to the inner part of your thigh.

He kept his gaze on you when his tongue finally split your folds, reveling in the way your back arched off the bed. You inhaled sharply as the warm, wet muscle slid over your precious little bundle of nerves, sparking a fire deep within your abdomen.

His grip on your thighs tightened, feeling his stomach clench with a need that was so _foreign_ to him. He was positively addicted the moment he tasted you. The motions of his tongue suddenly became more aggressive than he would’ve liked, but he knew you loved it just by the way your hips stuttered against him, as if silently begging him for more.

And come hell or high water, he was going to give you more. _And then some._

He could _feel_ the pulse beneath your skin pick up its pace, feel your thighs trembling under his hands. He had you right where he wanted you, and he wasn’t going to stop until you were coming undone at the seams.

You made a feeble attempt to push his face away, scooting farther up the bed in effort to escape the onslaught of sensations that devilish tongue of his was causing you, _feeling_ his sinister laugh against you.

“ _Oh, no you don’t._ ”

One of his hands released your thigh to press down flat on your stomach, pinning your hips to the bed as he pushed his face further into you, the movements of his tongue against you becoming rougher.

You were done for. The flame in your stomach erupted, heat searing you from the inside out as you let out a high-pitched keen, the pleasure rippling through you in shockwaves. His mouth never let up its assault as you crested the waves of your orgasm, leaving you gasping like a fish out of water.

Alastor coaxed you down from your high with gentle kisses and nips, only pulling away once your body stopped quaking. Your chest was still heaving, lungs burning for air as he crawled back on top of you, adorning a shit-eating grin that you never hated more than in this moment. His hips settled between yours, and you felt something hot and _hard_ pressing into your overly-sensitive heat.

“Don’t you quit on me now, my darling girl,” he all but panted against your mouth, grinding his hips into you. “We’re _far_ from done here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do not hate me! Here it is as promised, the third and final part will come out Monday. Tuesday at the latest. I love you all very much, please let me know what you think! It really gives me inspiration to write more. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, my dear sinners. This work is dedicated to Brooke and Atlas, as these goddesses have brought these ideas to fruition.

He reached down between your bodies, his thumb deftly unbuttoning his slacks.

“I’m going to take you now, dear. Are you ready?” His breath was hot against your ear, his claws digging into your hips.

You sucked in a shaky breath of air and nodded, allowing your eyes to close.

He pinched your chin between his fingers as he settled between your hips, tilting your face up.

“Look at me.” It wasn’t a suggestion. He was going to break you, and he wanted to see the tears in your eyes when he did.

When you opened your eyes for him, wide and clearly frightened, he felt his heart flutter; it almost made him forget _why_ he was doing this in the first place. _Almost_.

You were a cruel little thing; burdening him with sentiments that were previously unknown to his blackened heart, making him feel things he never wanted to feel for another soul since his mother. He was going to take you painstakingly slow. He was going to _make_ _sure_ you felt every inch of him as he split you open. He was going to make you pay very dearly for all of it, for all of the unwelcome emotions, for the morbid jealousy that he felt whenever the filth of hell laid their claws on you.

He lowered his hips to yours, and the same searing heat you felt between your thighs before pressed insistently against you, blunt and prodding at your entrance. You were tempted to look – your curiosity never failed to get you into trouble – but the moment your eyes began to drift further down his torso, he dropped his upper body fully onto yours, blocking your vision from what was about to happen. He knew if you were to see him in all of his glory, you would be petrified of the sight alone, and the last thing he wanted was for you to no longer want this. Even in moments like these, where his blood was boiling, he could be _merciful_.

Fingers intertwining with yours, his smile ever enchanting as he pushed his hips forward once, twice, and finally pressed into you. Your nose scrunched up as you let out a pitiful whimper, music to his ears as an overwhelming pressure began to fill you. Despite his unyielding strength, the difficulty of penetration seemed to be taking a toll on him – his jaw clenched tightly, his body shaking in an effort to take you slow like he wanted, and not just rip you in half like the beast inside him was demanding. This was _punishment_ , he reminded himself, and paused at your barrier accordingly.

“Please don’t make faces like that, dear,” his voice was strained, his eyes closing and his eyebrows knitting themselves together like he was at war with himself. His thumb swiped away a tear from under your eye. “I might _really_ hurt you.”

“You’re already _hurting_ me, Alastor…” you whined, your hips instinctually lifting to try to take him deeper. “Please, just… _take me_.”

_Oh_ , he was going to make you wish you never opened that pretty mouth of yours.

A sick grin twisted his features as he cocked his hips back, momentarily providing you relief from the insane pressure that filled your insides, only for the pain to return tenfold when he powered past your barrier, his hips snapping forward as hard as he could manage.

A tinge of regret settled heavy in his chest hearing your scream, hoping that the party downstairs didn’t pick up on it. He hissed at the feeling of your tight heat taking him to the very hilt, unable to deny his sadistic nature as his pupils formed slits at the sound of your cry. He kept that monster inside him at bay for your sake alone – he could easily kill you if he lost control.

You did as you were told, keeping your eyes on his despite the tears that blurred your vision, much to his satisfaction.

His hips began to rut into you with increasing force, reveling in the sound of your whines and cries as he took you. Your eyes, glossy and still brimming with tears nearly drove him to his breaking point.

Despite the pain, you found your hips bucking to meet his thrusts, wanting more of him in every possible way. He was pistoning against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars; jarring your body with delicious force, compromising your ability to think straight. The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.

“ _I love you._ ”

You felt his body go rigid against you the moment the words left your lips, completely halting his movements at your unintentional confession. Your eyes were wide in disbelief at yourself, and by the look on his face, your stomach sank, preparing for inevitable demise.

He searched your eyes for the truth of your words, his smile twitching and then _dropping_ completely. Your stomach swooped with an acute _dread_ ; though you’d seen his smile disappear a number of times, it never failed to strike fear into your heart. The strings in his mind keeping himself under control had snapped, and his hand shot to your neck in an instant, encircling your throat and squeezing just enough to stifle your breathing.

“A terrible decision, really,” Alastor chuckled darkly, seeming to loom much larger over your petite frame.

The glow in his eyes intensified, his remaining hand seizing a painful grip on your hips, claws digging into your skin. You watched as his features _darkened_ , his antlers branching out further from his skull.

The radio static that had previously been absent returned with a vengeance, buzzing angrily and rippling across your skin. The sight alone would’ve scared you to no end had you not meant the words you’d just let slip, and you knew they were the cause of him losing his bearings like this. You craned your neck further into his grasp, completely trusting and willing to let him snap your neck if he wished, welcoming this side of him with open arms.

“ _Mine_ ,” he snarled next to your ear, his hips snapping into yours with brutal force, causing you to cry out.

The second he started drilling into you, you thought you were going to die.

Everything around you became a blur, except Alastor, his hard body working as his hips drove forward into you with frightening force. His body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his rogue hair messy and disheveled from the tryst. That eternal smile was gone, his jaw slack and teeth set in a grimace of pleasure, and for a moment you couldn’t quite put words to how he was looking at you; something akin to adoration? Worship?

Then it dawned on you.

_Love. He was looking at you with love._

That sent you over the edge.

You cried out his name, your back arching against him as you crested over the tsunami of pleasure that threatened to drown you if you hadn’t been clinging to him for dear life. Your nails raked down his back, rivulets of blood surfacing in the wake of the scratches, something he would’ve punished you for had you not been coming undone beneath him.

Alastor let out his breath as if someone had punched him in the gut, the sudden vice-like grip of your walls literally knocking the wind out of him. He released his grip on you hips and throat, instead lacing his fingers through yours, pinning your arms to the bed and holding you down as your body convulsed violently against him, your pleasured expression so _sweet_ that it would be burned vividly into his mind for the rest of his afterlife.

It was such a beautiful sight that you pulled him over with you. He let out a handsome, feral growl, thrusting sharply into you, his teeth baring menacingly before he leaned down and captured your lips with his own, shoving himself so deeply and tightly against you that it made your stomach do flips as he let his own release wash over him.

A string of curses left his lips as you led him over the edge. He felt his abdomen tighten and his body quiver with the force that he emptied himself into you. He came so violently inside you it almost _hurt_. He felt decades of pent-up emotion and desire erupt and spill over into your tight heat, leaving him rocking against you and gasping your name like a mantra.

The gentleness in his eyes that always succeeded in taking your breath away returned as his body collapsed onto yours, so broken and spent beneath him. You looked up at him in awe, a small sigh leaving your lips as he pulled out of you, your body still shaking as he pulled the blankets over both of you. He pressed a tender kiss to your lips.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Outside the room, the devil cocked an eyebrow, finally pulling his ear from the door since the whole ordeal began. A satisfied grin played on his lips, wholly pleased with himself as he strolled leisurely down the hall, setting out to return to the party. “A good night indeed,” Lucifer hummed to himself with a chuckle. He found himself just as riled up as the two of you had been. He’d have to pay a visit to his dear wife later on tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t want to post the entire smut without seeing how this will be received by you guys. Comments and critiques are greatly appreciated, and if you guys really want the part two, be sure to let me know!


End file.
